There was certainly a figure there, not standing, but sitting on the bench in an att.i.tude that spoke of faintness; and of all the men in Pattaqua.s.set, Mr. Simlins was perhaps most surprised to see that it was Mr. Linden. A white handkerchief ineffectually bound round his arm, but served to shew why he had tried to secure it there.

Mr. Simlins surveyed it all with his candle in about three seconds, and then said hoa.r.s.ely, "What's this? Can you speak to me?"

But the power for that was gone, though a little parting of the lips spoke the intent. Mr. Simlins set down his candle and went back to the kitchen.

"Get some brandy, you fools!" said he. "Here's a friend o' mine got faint for want of his supper--been too long out shootin'. Fetch a gla.s.s of water here too! Jenny Lowndes, you go tell Jem Waters that 'ere plaguey black heifer has got out of the yard. You send him to me, and if you spile the frolic with your story I'll have nothing more to do with you, I give you my word!"

Mr. Simlins was obeyed. He himself went back with the water and the brandy, which he tenderly applied to Mr. Linden's forehead and lips, and seeing the handkerchief's ineffectual disposition had taken it off and bound it on tight by the time Jem Waters, one of his farm hands, had reached the porch. The two then taking the sufferer in their arms carried him into the house and into Mr. Simlins' room, which was on the first floor, where they laid him on the bed. Jem Waters was then despatched for Dr. Harrison, with orders to hold his tongue and not say what he was sent for. And Jem Waters, the swiftest runner in Pattaqua.s.set, set off and ran every step of the way, till the doctor was found.

The cold applications, the resting posture, seemed to do their work, and Mr. Simlins was rewarded with a smile from both eyes and lips. He did not speak again however till he had seen a spoonful of brandy enter the lips; then with a grave concern that did not seem like Mr. Simlins, he said, in a subdued tone,

"How do you find yourself? Can you speak now?"

"Not much--" Mr. Linden answered with some effort. "I find myself in very kind hands."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Somewhat--the shot scattered, I think."

There was a smothered execration, and then it was a very kind hand that renewed the touch of cold water to his forehead, though a big, brown and rough one.

"I've sent for the doctor--and now I'll get you a nurse. You keep quiet, till you can do something else."

Mr. Simlins gently went forth; and in a minute after was in the midst of his husking party in the barn.

"Reuben Taylor!" said the farmer--"You don't mind takin' a run, do you?

Wouldn't you just as lieves help me catch that black heifer--afore she gets to Pequot?"

Reuben started up, and signified his ability to catch anything whatever. He was not alone; for half a dozen others volunteered to be equally ready.

"You keep where you be!" said the farmer with a wave of his hand to the half dozen. "I don't let everybody chase that 'ere heifer--you've got to catch her by the head and not by the foot, I tell _you!_ Reuben, you come along."

And getting him well outside of the barn and half way towards the house, Mr. Simlins said in a very low growl indeed,

"Mr. Linden's here--he's been hurt, somehow, in his arm--and he's kind 'o faint; I want you to stay by him till the doctor comes, and then let me know. If I don't keep in the barn they'll raise Plute--or they'll come in--and I'd as lieves they'd do one as 'tother."

By this time Mr. Simlins had reached the door of his room, and ushered Reuben in. He heard--and long remembered--the smothered cry which seemed to come no further than Reuben's lips as he stepped within the door; but after that the boy might have been made of iron, for his strength and steadiness. He walked up to the bedside and knelt down by it, with a look which again Mr. Simlins could not soon forget; but his face was quite calm, except in the first moment when Mr. Linden looked at him. The farmer was a man of iron too, yet his voice was low and changed from its usual wont when he spoke.

"It's only loss of blood, I guess," he said. "He'll get along. You give him brandy, and water, Reuben, if he wants it; and call me when Dr.

Harrison comes. Can I do anything else?" The last words were gently, even tenderly, addressed to the sufferer.

"No--" Mr. Linden said, with that same pleasant look of the eyes. "I think there is not much the matter--except what you said."

Mr. Simlins stalked off and was rather more grim than usual in the barn. The huskers had returned to their merriment, and the slight sound of wheels in the road from time to time of course attracted no attention. After one of these signals, however, Jem Waters appeared at the front door.

"Mr. Simlins there's a gentleman wants to see yer. I'll take yer place."

"Very few strides did Mr. Simlins make between the barn and the house, and slight was his stay of greeting to Dr. Harrison.

"He's in here--" said he leading the way.

Reuben was just as Mr. Simlins had left him,--it seemed as if he had not once taken his eyes from the calm face before him. For very calm it was--reposeful; with not a line disturbed except where a slight contraction of the brow told of some physical discomfort. But he was not asleep, for he looked at them the moment they entered; and Reuben rose then, and stood leaning against the bedpost.

"I'm sorry to see you so," said the doctor. "What's the matter? and where?"

A little smile, a glance towards the bandaged arm, seemed to say there was nothing very bad, but that what there was it would be easier for him to have the doctor find out for himself.

Nor further did the doctor ask, but proceeded to work. And it appeared soon that Dr. Harrison at play, and Dr. Harrison at work, were two people--yet the same! The doctor did not indeed play at his work; yet the work was done with the same skilful ease that he brought to his play; an ignorant eye could see as much; and Mr. Simlins jealously looking on, felt very soon at ease as to the doctor's part in the scene before him. Dr. Harrison knew his business, and knew it well.

Mr. Linden's coat was removed, in the course of which operation a keen glance of the doctor's eye over at Reuben shewed that he recognized him; but then he attended to nothing but his patient. He found that a number of duck shot had been lodged in Mr. Linden's side and arm, the latter of which was somewhat lacerated, and this was the princ.i.p.al wound. The others were slight, the shot having taken a slanting direction and so rather grazed than penetrated. Dr. Harrison with care and skill went on to extract the shot and dress the wounds, which he did after the happy and simple regimen of modern discoveries; and ordered certain restoratives which he judged his patient needed. He did not speak except on business till he had seen these doing their work and Mr. Linden able to reply to him. And then his first words were to the farmer; who, not asking a question, had stood by as silent and watchful as Reuben himself; nearly as grave.

"There's nothing the matter with him, Mr. Simlins," he said. "He'll be able to shoot you in a day or two--if he has a mind. What have you been doing to him?"

"_Me!_ I've been actin' the part of the good Syrian to him," growled Mr. Simlins;--"only I always thought before, the oil and wine went on the outside instead of the inside."

"I dare say," said the doctor lightly, probably not understanding the allusion. And then he seated himself on the side of the bed, looking down at his patient very much in his usual manner.

"You'll have made yourself the hero of Pattaqua.s.set, Linden," he said.

"There won't another fellow stand a chance to be looked at for a month to come--from here to Quilipeak. You ought to be indicted for breach of the public peace."

"Don't try it--" said Mr. Linden. "I should doubtless prevail with the jury too."

"Ha?--" said the doctor with another glance over at Reuben. "Now how did this come about?"

"Quite suddenly--as I was walking home."

"Where were you?"

"About a mile from here, in the open road."

"Who was fool enough to be shooting ducks in the open road and mistake you for a specimen?--You are not at all the sort of man I should ever think of making game of."

"I tried hard to find out who it was," said Mr. Linden,--"but he was a better runner than I, or else my strength gave out."

"Why how did the thing happen?" said the doctor. "Run!--you don't suppose the fellow meant to hit you?"

"He meant to run--" said Mr. Linden.

The doctor looked at Mr. Simlins, with a serio-comical expression.

"Worse and worse!" said he. "It is a full-grown, regular built adventure; and this is a hero from head to foot."

"Which way did the fellow run?" said Mr. Simlins, with a growl that was ominous.

"Straight ahead--till he got into the woods," said Mr. Linden, smiling at his host. "But he probably turned there, Mr. Simlins."

"I'll have him!" said Mr. Simlins--"I'll foller his tracks, if they lead me to the two poles of the axletree! You tell me where you see him, and I'll set runners on, that won't give out neither."